


have one on me

by littleleotas



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alcohol, Friendship, Gen, aggressive mako hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7645738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleleotas/pseuds/littleleotas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus and Wrex bonding through the years; for Mass Effect Friendship Week on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have one on me

_Clunk._

“Son of a-” Garrus spat under his breath. He pulled at the wrench stuck firmly in the undercarriage of the Mako, but he couldn't unstick it. He pulled back, sighed, and tried it again. His subvocals growled as he poured all his effort into pulling the wrench, and it suddenly came free and hit him in the face.

“Heh,” laughed Wrex from across the way. “Having trouble?”

“No,” said Garrus sullenly. He slid out from underneath the Mako, rubbing at the impact spot from the wrench. He looked up and saw Wrex grinning and quickly folded his hands behind his back, one hand holding the wrench. “I'm fine.”

Wrex shrugged and returned to cleaning his gun.

Garrus glared across the bay but Wrex didn't return his gaze. He rubbed the back of his neck, pulling up the Mako's specs on the terminal. He scrutinised the diagrams, huffing in annoyance.

“You know,” said Wrex, not looking up from his gun, “It's the humans' equipment. You can let them handle it.”

Garrus paused but didn't look up from the terminal. “I...need something to do.”

Wrex tilted his head to the side, still not looking up from his gun. “Can't sit still, huh?”

“What? No,” said Garrus. “I just- I can- I want to- do something.” He scrolled through more diagrams, moving his face closer to the screen.

Wrex stopped and looked over at him. “Huh.”

Garrus looked up and met his gaze. “What?”

Wrex shrugged. “Never seen a turian so antsy.”

Garrus returned his gaze to the terminal. “Yeah. Well. I'm not a good turian.”

Wrex blinked. “What's 'good' got to do with it?”

Garrus whipped his head back toward Wrex and looked at him with surprise. “Wh- that doesn't make sense.”

Wrex waved him off. “Don't worry about it, kid.”

Garrus bristled slightly, mandibles flaring. Without another word he turned back to the terminal. After studying a few more diagrams, he tossed the wrench from one hand to the other and crawled back beneath the Mako.

_Clunk._

The wrench was stuck again. Garrus moved to the side before attempting to unstick it, and was rewarded by a piece of the undercarriage falling in his face as he freed the wrench. He pushed the piece off and threw the wrench across the floor, crawling out and sitting next to a wheel, arms crossed over his knees.

The bottom of a beer bottle tapped against his knuckles. He looked up and saw Wrex holding the neck of the bottle. Wrex tapped the beer at Garrus again.

“Here. Denorian beer. It's the good stuff.”

“I'm fine, thanks.”

“You need to take a break.”

“No I-”

“It works better if you take a break and come back to it with a clear head.”

Garrus looked up at Wrex skeptically. “And alcohol will help me come back with a clear head.”

Wrex shrugged.

Garrus sighed and took the bottle. Wrex sat down next to him and popped open the top of another one.

“So. What's this about not being a good turian?”

Garrus took a sip of his beer. “Well. It's like you said, turians don't...turians aren't...”

“Impatient? Restless? Jumpy?”

Garrus stared sullenly at his knees.

“Sorry.” Wrex took a large sip. “Well they can't expect all of you to be stoic uptight assholes.”

“We're not uptight assholes.”

Wrex looked at him.

Garrus tilted his head sideways concilatorily and took another sip. “It's just-” he sighed. “Everyone- well, my father, mostly- they expect me to be just like him. And I'm not. I can't just- do nothing. Just because we're supposed to.”

Wrex hummed thoughtfully and took another sip.

Garrus continued. “We're supposed to do things by the rules and not question anything and just do things the way they've always been done and I-” he sighed again. “I can't do that. I can't just- sit by and let things be done wrong just because they always have been.”

Wrex looked at him curiously. After a moment's pause, he inhaled deeply. “You're alright, kid.”

Garrus snorted softly. “Not by turian standards.”

“Forget turian standards. You're alright.”

~-~-~-

“Well, look at you,” said Garrus, looking up at Wrex seated on his throne.

“Heh. Two years is a long time, Garrus.”

“It sure is,” said Garrus, distantly.

Wrex stood up and walked down toward Garrus, clapping him on the shoulder. “Come on. Got something for you. Bet you need a break from that Mako repair.”

“Actually,” said Garrus, falling in step with Wrex, “We don't have the Mako anymore. We use a shuttle for drops.”

“Well thank _fuck,_ ” said Wrex. “Guess they were either gonna need to replace the Mako or teach Shepard to drive.”

They laughed together. Wrex elbowed open a door and Garrus followed him in. The small dwelling was cluttered, but in a vaguely organised manner Garrus immediately recognised. Wrex opened a crate and pulled out two bottles, tossing one to Garrus.

Garrus looked at the label. “Denorian.”

“Only the good stuff with me.” They opened their bottles and Wrex clinked his against Garrus's. “To the void. May it keep spitting us all back out.”

“Mm,” Garrus lifted his bottle in Wrex's direction before taking a sip.

“So, what've you been up to?” said Wrex, pulling up a chair and gesturing at one close to Garrus.

Garrus pushed a few boxes off the chair and sat down. “Nothing to speak of.”

“Oh, come on,” said Wrex. “You expect me to believe you sat at a desk at C-Sec for two years after Saren?”

Garrus took a long sip. “I tried to. After Shepard died, I...I couldn't do it anymore.”

Wrex sighed. “I hear you.”

Garrus was quiet for a minute.

Wrex kicked his feet up on a crate on the floor. “So?”

Garrus idly picked at the label on his beer. “So. I...went to Omega.”

“Ha!” Wrex grinned. “Joined a gang?”

“Not exactly.”

Wrex looked at him expectantly for a moment, but Garrus steadfastly stared at his beer. “Alright,” shrugged Wrex. “You don't have to tell me.”

Garrus looked up. “Sorry, Wrex. It's just...it's been tough.”

Wrex was quiet for a moment. “Yeah.”

“I was trying to get rid of the gangs, actually.”

Wrex laughed heartily. “On Omega? That's the whole station, kid.”

“Yes, I figured that out.”

“Well,” Wrex shifted in his seat. “Glad you got out okay.”

“That was all Shepard,” he said quietly.

“Mm. I owe her a beer then, too.”

They quietly sipped their drinks for a few minutes.

“So. Clan chief, then.”

Wrex chuckled. “Yeah. Someone's gotta keep these pyjaks in line.”

“Sounds like you're doing risky work, Wrex.”

Wrex shrugged. “It's like you said. Can't let things be done wrong just because they've always been done that way.”

Garrus nodded, taking another sip.

Wrex got up and grabbed himself another beer. He gestured to Garrus, who put up a hand to refuse a second.

“Anyway,” said Wrex, sitting back down and opening his beer. “Wish I could go with you and Shepard but I'm afraid Tuchanka will fall apart without me.”

“Got a high opinion of yourself.”

Wrex laughed. “Well if I don't, who will?”

“Can't count on me for that,” said Garrus, chuckling.

“Ha! You don't fool me.”

“What gave me away?”

“Ah, don't feel bad, Garrus. No one can resist my charms.”

~-~-~-

“Tuchanka may be a pile of radioactive rubble, but it's our pile, and we'll fight to the last krogan to keep it that way.”

Garrus elbowed forward in front of Shepard. “Radioactive?”

“Hahaha, Garrus!” beamed Wrex, clasping his hand. “I have to make friends with the one turian in the galaxy who thinks he's funny.”

Garrus shifted his weight onto his hip. “Imagine how I feel. I'm supposed to hate krogan, but you came along and warmed my heart with your winning personality.”

“Ah, well. You were always a bad turian.”

Garrus chuckled, moving back to let Wrex and Shepard finish their conversation. Shepard went to speak to another salarian before moving onward, and Wrex threw an arm around Garrus's shoulders.

“I'm glad you're here, Garrus.”

“It's the least I can do, Wrex. You deserve this. The krogan deserve this.”

Wrex grunted. “You've come a long way, kid.”

Garrus cast a quick glance in Shepard's direction before turning back to Wrex. “Don't suppose you have a beer or two handy?”

“Hey,” said Wrex, giving Garrus a semi-serious sideways glare. “You're doing this mission sober, buddy.”

Garrus laughed. “I know. Just thinking, for old times' sake.”

“Rain check?”

“Yeah.”

~-~-~-

In a shot-out warehouse in London, Garrus looked down the scope of his gun, polishing it one last time. “I want you to coordinate with the Alliance,” he said to the young turian soldier at his side. “Make sure we iron out these logistical problems.”

“Yes, sir. The krogan don't want to share supplies, though,” the soldier said hesitantly.

“That's just Wrex playing hard to get. Tell him I've got a crate of Denorian beer I'd be happy to barter with. That oughta get his attention.”

The soldier nodded and headed over the bridge.

Wrex was addressing the krogan troops as the soldier approached.

“...beat the monsters back to the abyss, and one word brought death to an enemy none dared fight. That word was 'krogan!' And today the krogan rise again! Today we forge a new path and join the galaxy as allies in victory! Today...we win our future!”

The troops roared. When they quieted down, the turian soldier cleared his throat. “Um, sir?”

Wrex turned around.

“Um, about the supplies, sir. Adviser Vakarian said he has a crate of Denorian beer to barter with.”

Wrex looked at him for a moment, then laughed loud and long. “Ah, that old son of a pyjak.” He took long strides down the rubble pile and across the bridge, the turian soldier trailing behind him in a panic.

The doors slid open and Wrex opened his arms wide. “Garrus Vakarian. 'Bout time I got a beer off you.”

Garrus looked over his shoulder, tilting his head with a swagger. “It's the end of the world, Wrex. Figure I should start paying off my debts.”

Wrex approached and the men shook hands firmly. “Should've started earlier, smartass.”

“Well, you've got me there.”

Wrex laughed. “Listen, you get all the supplies you need. I just wanted to make your superiors sweat for it.”

“Much appreciated, Wrex.”

Wrex clapped his back. “What are friends for?”

Garrus's mandibles flared. “I promise I'll get you that beer when this is all over.”

“I'll hold you to it.”

Garrus nodded, casting his gaze down.

“Hey,” said Wrex, moving in front of him. “Don't get yourself killed.”

“Right back at you.”

Wrex nodded, clapped Garrus's shoulder once more, and walked back out the door toward his troops.

Garrus's gaze followed him out the door. The soldier gingerly stepped forward. “Sir?”

“Hm?”

“How- when did- I didn't know any of us were so close with the krogan.”

Garrus tilted his head at the soldier. “Better get used to it, soldier.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as always, to the real-life Garrus for the confirmation. Also thanks for letting me steal your laptop in the middle of The Wars to check my screencaps.


End file.
